


Desert Bandit in the Jungle

by TiedyedTrickster



Series: Geta!verse [4]
Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Geta stop making crap up, I mean what are the odds?, NO bashing!, Sparring, Yamcha's here!, hi Yamcha!, romance to bromance, seriously who's surprised that he showed up in one of my stories?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old friend, a new challenger, and about time we got an actual FIGHT in this series!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Bandit in the Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place about four months after Bulma’s initial meeting with Geta.

“-so I said…” Bulma trailed off abruptly.

Geta glanced at her in concern. “Bulma? You okay? Only you’ve stopped talking and you don’t normally do that, so-”

But the blue-haired woman was no longer paying attention to him or her story, but rather to a figure ahead of them in the market. “Oh, look at that!” she snarled, “A two-timing _JERK!_ ”

Geta didn’t have time to react before she’d taken off like a shot.

Meanwhile, the focus of her ire had spun around, flipped some wavy black hair out of his face, and met her charge with stunned eyes. “What the-!”

Never breaking stride, Bulma leapt at the tall man and Geta finally snapped out of his stupor enough to start moving to intercept before the insane scientist attempted to commit murder in broad daylight.

The strange man, however, met her with open arms and in a moment was spinning her around while they both laughed like idiots as Bulma kissed both his cheeks.

“Yamcha, you old bandit, it’s been _forever_! How are you? And where did all this hair come from?” she plucked at a lock, giggling. “So unstylish!”

“Yeah, but I like it.” Yamcha smiled and set her back on her feet. “What are you doing out here? Looking to find the dragon balls and break some more hearts?”

She shook her head. “Meteor-hunting this time – you idiots keep breaking the stage, so the Budokai guys hired me to make them a stronger one. But how are you? How’s Pu’ar? Still dating Chae?”

“I’m doing well, Pu’ar’s doing well, and she and Chae are getting pretty close as far as I know. And is it _our_ fault the stage is-”

“Bulma, who’s this?”

Yamcha blinked at the spikey-haired young man peering shyly at him from behind Bulma, who turned to him with a smile. “Oh! Where are my manners – don’t answer that, Yams – Geta, this is Yamcha, the guy I met when I went after the dragon balls that one time. Yamcha, this is Vegeta, he’s been helping me look for the meteor that crashed here awhile ago.”

The ex-bandit extended a hand cordially and they shook. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Thanks for looking out for this crazy lady – she can’t go two steps without tripping into some sort of trouble or other.”

Bulma swatted him. “Says one of the more annoying pieces of trouble I’ve tripped into!”

The taller man laughed, but didn’t argue. “I’m surprised you found a guide instead of making a meteor radar or-” he paused as Bulma became suddenly very interested in a stall to their right.

“Oh, she did make a machine of some sort, it just didn’t work,” Geta piped up helpfully, “That’s how we met – she got mad and hit me in the head with it!”

Bulma’s head snapped back to the black-haired pair, taking in Yamcha’s stunned expression at a glance. “Yams,” she growled, one finger levelled menacingly at him, “Don’t you dare, don’t you even think- oh, god damn it!”

Yamcha had broken down into peals of laughter, clutching his stomach as tears ran down his face, half-heartedly fending off Bulma as she tried to pummel him into submission. “Oh~ no, this is just _too_ good! The great Bulma Briefs, who, at the tender age of fifteen, built a radar capable of finding _magical orbs of legend_ can’t find a crummy meteor?” He kept laughing. Finally, catching her hands and making a half-hearted attempt to wipe his eyes on the broad bandana covering his shoulders, he smirked at her. “You’re not allowed to hold me losing to Krillin over my head anymore.”

“Shut up! I’ll do it if I want to!”

“Are you guys dating or something?” Geta, sensing a break in the conversation, seized his chance to ask the question that had been on his mind for a few minutes now.

The two glanced at each other, then shook their heads. “Nah. We used to, but we broke up.”

“He totally cheated on me,” Bulma added.

Yamcha scowled. “It was an accident!”

“How can you _accidentally_ cheat on someone?!”

“It was one kiss! In a game of Truth or Dare! With a **_guy_**!”

“You’re **_bisexual_**!”

“Which I didn’t fully realise until _after_ I’d kissed him!”

They stood there for a moment, nose to nose, scowling fiercely, before they broke off, both smiling sheepishly.

“Also, we fought a lot. I realise all couples are going to fight _sometimes_ , but this one,” Yamcha ruffled Bulma’s hair, “ _Likes_ to fight- too much for my tastes.”

Bulma pushed him off, giving him a mock glare. “Oh, yeah, so says the professional martial artist!”

Yamcha laughed unashamedly. “Sparring in the ring is one thing – I’d like to know the fights are going to most likely stop when I step out of it, not switch to a different format.”

Geta tilted his head in confusion. “But fighting’s _fun_.”

Yamcha shrugged, then smirked. “You date her, then. Me, I’m going to find someone who enjoys cuddling and thinks of a verbal fight as a _fight_ , not foreplay.”

It was Bulma’s turn to laugh as Geta turned crimson. “Don’t tease him, Yamcha, he’s got delicate sensibilities.”

Geta pouted, still crimson, and tightened his tail around his waist.

“Anyway,” Bulma turned her attention back to the ex-bandit, “You know why I’m here, and Geta lives in the jungle nearby, but what brings _you_ out to this little speck of civilization?”

“It’s remote, but this place actually has a reputation in the martial arts circles,” Yamcha grinned in anticipation, “Their dojo is supposed to be pretty tough, and no one’s beaten their champion in over a decade. I figured it was about time I came and saw how strong they were for myself. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn some new tricks and surprise Krillin the next time I see him.”

Geta, who had perked up at the mention of the dojo, joined the conversation again. “Really? I was gonna show the dojo to Bulma! You wanna come, too?”

“Ah, sure.” Falling into step, Yamcha glanced at the shorter man. “Do you train there?”

“Sometimes! Say, are you a ki user?”

Yamcha smiled at Geta’s enthusiasm. “Some. I can’t do a Kamehameha yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Neat.” Geta scratched one ear and grinned at the taller man. “Where are the scars from?”

“Oh, these?” Yamcha rubbed the x-shaped mark on his cheek ruefully. “Training. Master Gohan took me to fight tengu in the mountains, to work on my perception skills and swordsmanship.”

“How’d that work for you?”

“Well, I’m not dead, not maimed, and he let me _leave_ the mountain again, so I must have done something right.” Yamcha shrugged modestly. “How about you? Haven’t you managed to pick up any scars yet?”

“One or two faint ones – my skin tends to heal pretty smooth. Kinda sucks, kinda doesn’t.”

“How does that work?” Bulma asked, a little confused.

Geta shrugged. “On the one hand, a scar in the wrong place can restrict muscle movement or even cripple you, so healing neatly is good. On the other hand, no badass battle scars.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow as Yamcha nodded in agreement. “I take it you’ve put a lot of thought into this?”

“You haven’t?” both men responded in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

Bulma was still shaking her head at her weird male friends when a building that could only be the dojo came into sight.

“There it is!” Geta announced happily, “I’ll go tell Master Moo-shun you’re here to challenge!” he added, running off before Yamcha could reply. The ex-bandit blinked and Bulma laughed.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a little awkward around strangers usually.”

Yamcha blinked again. “He didn’t seem shy.”

The blue-haired woman shrugged. “It’s a gradual thing – like it takes him a little bit to realize he’s talking to someone he doesn’t know, and then once he does realize, he panics. Then he runs off to hide the fact that he’s started panicking and calm down, and then eventually he comes back.”

“Oh. I guess that’s-” he paused as a tall old man with a face like a walnut – if walnuts had fluffy white hair and truly extraordinary eyebrows – came out of the dojo. He wore a teal haori over a white and black gi, and smiled at the pair as they approached.

“Greetings, travellers. I am Master Moo-shun; welcome to my dojo.”

Yamcha bowed back. “Thank-you, sir.”

“I hear you wish to challenge our champion,” the old man said genially, “May I enquire as to why?”

“My name is Yamcha,” the ex-bandit grinned, “And I’m training for the next Tenkaichi Budokai. I’m looking for anything that can help me prepare for it, so when I heard about your dojo and champion, I thought this could be a good way to test my strength and see how far I have to go still.”

“Very well.” Moo-shun nodded and led the two of them inside, where several students in black gis and a rainbow of belts were training. “Students, clear the mats, please – we have a courteous challenger for our champion!”

‘Courteous?’ Bulma mouthed to Yamcha as the students made their ways to the edge of the mats to watch the match. Yamcha shrugged, looking to see who would remain and be revealed as the champion, but none of them did.

“So, you think you have what it takes to defeat _me_?”

Yamcha’s gaze jerked to the direction the icy voice had come from. High in the wall opposite to the door was a window, and in it crouched a figure, silhouetted by the sunlight. A tail lashed back and forth behind it, and the ex-bandit narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if I do or not, but I’m not going to be put off by a scare tactic.”

The figure chuckled, a cold, humourless laugh. “And if I told you I was the monkey prince, son of Sun Wukong himself?”

“I’d say your attitude is a discredit to your master,” kicking off his boots, Yamcha stepped onto the mat, “And that I’ve taken on bigger opponents than you before!”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” the figure’s laughter had genuine amusement in it this time, and it launched itself into the room, flipping in mid-air to make a three-point landing. “When you get down to it, I’m kinda short.” And the champion looked up at Yamcha, grinning.

Yamcha boggled. “ ** _Geta_**?”

“Hi again!” the short youth stood up, still grinning. “Don’t worry, no one else ever believes my monkey king story, either.”

“That’s because it’s not true!” someone called from the sidelines.

“That’s no reason not to believe it!” Geta protested while Yamcha shook his head and pulled himself together.

“So, are you really the champion, or is that another bluff?” the ex-bandit asked, confused.

Geta shook his head. “No bluff this time, I really am the champion.”

“Why the theatrics, then?”

Bulma answered before Geta could. “Because he likes messing with people. Her tone was partially annoyed and partially amused.

A fox boy with a purple belt gave a yip of laughter. “She’s sure got your number, Geta!” the rest of the class made agreeing noises, and the short youth in question shrugged, completely unrepentant.

“Still wanna fight me?”

In response, Yamcha brought his hands up before him, palms together. Geta smiled and mimicked the pose, and the bowed to each other.

From the sidelines, Master Moo-shun clapped his hands together sharply. “I declare this match begun!”

The two straightened and dropped into their stances, eyeing each other for openings. Yamcha was the first to spot one and flashed across the ring, aiming a fist at Geta’s abdomen, and they were off.

At first, Yamcha was pretty pleased with himself – he was holding his own, rather evenly matched, in fact, and it was exhilarating to not have to hold back at all, like he’d had to in the city. As they progressed into the fight, however, it began to grow evident that he was actually outmatched. Fewer and fewer of his blows were finding their mark and he was being forced more and more onto the defensive. Then, quite suddenly, he was on the floor, Geta on his chest, one fist an inch from the ex-bandit’s nose. The short youth looked down at him with a half-smile.

“Do you yield?”

He let his head fall back on the mat, panting. “Yeah, I yield.”

“Match to Vegeta!” Master Moo-shun announced.

Yamcha gave the champion a surprised look as Geta got off his chest. “‘Vegeta?’”

The other shrugged. “Master Moo-shun says I gotta use my full name for formal matches, and it’s his dojo, so he gets to make the rules.” He offered Yamcha a hand up, which the long-haired man gratefully accepted.

“How kind of you to remember, Geta,” the old master gave an amused smile as he came up to him, ruffling Geta’s hair and handing Yamcha a towel. “You did very well, young man. If you desire, you may stay at the dojo awhile, and I will teach you.”

“Thank-you, I’d like that.” Yamcha wiped his face off and turned to Geta, offering the towel. “I only used one end, if you want to-” he stopped, really taking in the youth before him. Yamcha was in great shape, but it had been a strenuous match and he was dripping with sweat.

Geta, in contrast, was bone dry. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Sure, thanks,” Geta reached for the towel, but Yamcha pulled it away. “Hey, not coo- oh,” he grinned sheepishly as he saw Yamcha’s expression, “You noticed.”

“Of course I did!” the ex-bandit snapped crossly, unsure what was going on. Was this all just another game?!

Master Moo-shun laid a hand on his shoulder before he could say any more. “There is no ‘of course,’ Yamcha. Come, we will continue this discussion off the mats so the other students may resume their training.” He led them to the side, where they collected Yamcha’s boots and Bulma, who had been watching as best she could, though the two fighters had gotten awfully blurry at the end, from her point of view. Moo-shun turned back to his class while Yamcha pulled his boots on.

“Back to your kata, students. Ragu, you are in charge while I am outside. Stringar, continue trying to discern your classmates from each other.”

“Yes, master!” the class chorused. A dark-skinned young woman with a black belt made her way to the front of the classroom and took up an observational position while the fox from earlier walked to the other side of the mats and began to tie on a blindfold. Nodding, Moo-shun turned and led the three outside, speaking to Yamcha as he did so.

“You would be surprised, I think at how many people do not notice Geta’s lack of exertion after he defeats them. I believe they do not want to see – they do not want to acknowledge they have been so thoroughly outmatched by one so young. Of those who have noticed, a few became enraged that he did not take them down faster, under the impression that he was toying with them. Two others allowed their spirits to break at the sight of something they believed they could not achieve, and, as far as I know, they have abandoned the art. But something tells me that you, young man, will fall into the third category.”

“Which is?” Yamcha asked, not without some trepidation.

“A very few have seen the heights to which Geta has climbed, and realized that if it has been done once, it can be done again.” the old teacher smiled kindly at him. “You have the potential to be great.”

Yamcha blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and finally nodded. “I want to see how far I can go.”

“I will warn you, my teaching methods will grant you only skill, not power,” Moo-shun cautioned him.

“He- you’ve studied here, though, right, Geta?” Yamcha asked, turning to the flame-haired youth. Geta nodded.

“I learned Master Moo-shun’s style of fighting, and he taught me the basics of ki-sensing and control as well.”

Yamcha nodded back, then turned to the old teacher, “Then I’d be glad to learn. I’ve been looking for someone to help me with ki, anyway.”

“And I would be glad to be that person,” Moo-shun smiled, “You will begin training with Ragu tomorrow. Yes, Geta?”

The short youth had tugged hesitantly on the old man’s haori, and now gave Yamcha a half-smile, “If you’re interested, I’d be willing to work with you too, Yamcha. You’ve got an interesting style, and sparring with someone stronger makes you push yourself more, right? That is, if you’re okay with it as well, Master Moo-shun?”

“You know you are always welcome to join my classes, Geta.” The pair looked at Yamcha, who gave Geta a slightly skeptical look.

“This isn’t you messing with me again or something, is it?”

“Nah,” Geta shook his head, “That was a good fight! I mean, it was good for you too, right?” Yamcha raised his eyebrows at him while Bulma sniggered. Geta blinked, played back what he’d just said in his head, and turned scarlet. “Not like that! I meant – it’s better to be able to go all-out against an opponent. More satisfying, right?”

Yamcha gave him a level look, then laughed and shook his head. “Sure, why not? But you’d better not go easy on me!”

“I promise to give you a good challenge!” Geta responded resolutely.

Yamcha nodded. “Guess I’ll need to find someplace to stay, since I’ll be-” movement caught his eye, and his gaze turned to Geta’s tail, which was waving cheerfully behind him. “By the way, I was wondering earlier but got distracted by the match – what’s with the tail?”

“I didn’t cut it off.”

“…what?”

“You’ve known Geta a long time?” Bulma muttered out of the corner of her mouth to Moo-shun.

“I have the privilege of having known him longer than anyone else in this village has,” Moo-shun replied with a slight smile.

Bulma nodded. “Then you know what’s coming, right?”

“Indeed I do,” he gestured to the front steps of his dojo, “Might I invite you to have a seat, and you can tell me how you came to meet my young friend.”

And so the blue-haired young woman chatted with the old master while the ex-bandit tried to convince a very stubborn young champion that, no, really, he’d never had a tail. Never. Honest.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Bulma was 16 in the original series during that first dragon ball hunt – I’m fudging ages a bit here, amongst other things. Yamcha’s a year older than her in this world.
> 
> Next, this is actually the only AU I’ve ever made where Yamcha actually did anything with anyone else while dating Bulma, and, weirdly, it came about because I honestly DON’T think he cheated in canon – it doesn’t seem consistent with his characterization (not to mention the whole dubbing fiasco). And I ended up wondering, ‘so, how would it happen if he DID cheat on her?’ …I need to stop asking these questions, I can’t resist the compulsion to answer them…
> 
> So, quick synopsis: In this universe, Yamcha and Bulma dated a little less than two years, then the Truth or Dare incident (he was eighteen at that point, Bulma was seventeen) happened. It was one kiss, and, personally, I think agreeing to kiss another guy, for a game, when you’re under the impression you’re straight, doesn’t count as cheating. Bulma and Yamcha have different opinions than me (this is the problem with giving characters free will), and it ended up being the nail in the coffin of his and Bulma’s rather rocky relationship. At least, their romantic relationship – they ended up going from romance to a bromance that shook the foundations of history with its formation, so great was its strength. They’ve known each other for a bit over three years at the time of this scene. 
> 
> As a result of exposure to Bulma, and some proper advice on social interactions from Master Gohan (who travelled with Bulma during her first dragon ball hunt to help ensure her safety and with whom Yamcha had been training with for about a year as of this scene), this Yamcha is more confident around women and men alike in social situations, and is pretty comfortable with sexuality, both his own and other peoples’. He’s still hoping to settle down someday and have a family, though. 
> 
> A quick note on power levels in this universe: Geta arrived on Earth ludicrously strong by its standards, as already noted, and most everyone assumes he’s human, or something close enough that it doesn’t matter. As a result, everyone’s power levels are going to be a lot higher a lot sooner, simply because they know it’s possible to go that high a lot sooner. At the same time, the overall power cap for this universe is going to be lower for everyone – with one key exception, no one’s going to be hitting anything higher than basic super-saiyan. ‘cause, let’s be honest – if we ignore Cell and Buu and people like that, and focus on the power scale we saw in space in the Frieza saga… canon!Yamcha and Chaotzu could probably take a spaceship at the end of DBZ and go make themselves a tidy little galactic empire. Name a couple planets after themselves, send the rest of the group some ridiculous selfies mid-battle, you know, fun times. 
> 
> Tengu – crow demons from Japanese mythology, extremely skilled swordsmen and martial artists.
> 
> Yamcha   
> Age: 19  
> Height: 6’0”


End file.
